


Office Party

by nochick_fics



Series: Yearly Review [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Desk Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 04:07:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10914012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nochick_fics/pseuds/nochick_fics
Summary: Kain usually regrets attending the annual office party. Not this year.





	Office Party

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vexed_Wench](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vexed_Wench/gifts).



> Written September 2011.

After an hour huddled in a corner and cradling a now watered down cup of soda, Kain mentally berated himself for even bothering to come to the office’s annual staff party in the first place. All he _ever_ did at these things was attach himself to the nearest wall, observant and disappointingly sober, when he could have just as well stayed home and watched television. But then again, he highly doubted that he would have found any program nearly as entertaining as the debacle slowly unfolding before his eyes. Jean Havoc was spectacularly drunk and doing his damnedest to woo Riza Hawkeye by serenading her. Badly. Sheska was crawling around on the ground, looking for the glasses that were still on her face. Heymans Breda was pelting Vato Falman with an assortment of snacks and appetizers. And for some inexplicable reason, Alex Armstrong was now topless and flexing his pecs in a disturbingly hypnotic manner for anyone who would give him audience.   
  
Indeed, this type of entertainment was priceless. And, at least in the case of Armstrong, somewhat frightening.   
  
Kain scanned the crowd for the ringleader of this group of misfits but he was nowhere to be seen. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen Roy for the better part of the last thirty minutes now, not since the man had casually plucked a Dorito from Falman’s hair on his way to the makeshift bar on the other side of the room. Aside from exchanging brief, albeit somewhat awkward (for Kain, at least) pleasantries at the beginning of the night, Kain had successfully managed to keep his distance from his boss. While he was normally able to keep his affection for Roy subdued during regular business hours, the last thing Kain wanted was to try and make casual conversation when all he would be able to think about was what transpired during his most recent review.  
  
 _I do want to bend you over my desk… just so you know._  
  
He had unwisely chosen to take a sip of his drink just as Roy’s words resounded in his head and he launched into a fit of coughing that caught the attention of Riza.  
  
“Hey, are you alright?” she asked, approaching him with a look of worry.  
  
“I’m fine.” Kain cleared his throat and offered her a smile. “Thank you.”  
  
Riza gave him a once-over and, convinced that he was okay, smiled back. She opened her mouth to speak but was suddenly cut off by a shrill rendition of “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling” that made Kain, for one, cringe right down to the depths of his very soul. They both gaped in horror at Jean, who was now down on one knee and apparently convinced that recreating a scene from Top Gun--again, badly--was the right way to a girl’s heart.   
  
“Um… I’m going to… uh… go to the bathroom,” Kain announced before making a fast escape.   
  
He almost felt guilty abandoning Riza like that, but in the interest of his ears and his sanity, it was something he had to do. Besides, while he didn’t actually have to go, he decided that he _could_ do with a few minutes of peace and quiet before resuming the role of wallflower. And so with a course of action decided, he stepped into the bathroom…  
  
… and came to an abrupt halt when he spotted Roy leaning against the sink with a drink in his hand and a smirk on his face.  
  
“Hello Fuery.”  
  
“M-M-Mr. Mustang!”  
  
“You’re not on the clock. You can call me Roy.”   
  
Kain took a few steps forward and paused, the bathroom suddenly seeming impossibly small. “Um... okay.”   
  
Roy looked him up and down, quite deliberately, then took a sip of his drink. “Having a good time?”   
  
“Uh...”  
  
“Neither am I.”  
  
Kain chuckled nervously at Roy’s candor, which was far removed from his usual attitude in the office. It was nice. He took a drink of his warm, watery soda for lack of anything better to do and remained there, staring down into the cup and tapping his fingers against it, his heart pounding and his mind racing. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice when Roy heaved himself from the sink and walked over to him until it was too late and the man was right there, standing close, _dangerously_ close, studying him with a gaze that was somewhat predatory.  
  
“Is something wrong?” he asked in a way that indicated he already damn well knew the answer.   
  
“No,” Kain insisted weakly as he continued memorizing his feet. He was unsure of what else to say on account of the utter disbelief that any of this was happening. To make matters worse, it felt as if every drop of blood in his body was rushing to both his face and his cock. For the love of all that was holy, a man should not be permitted to stand within two feet of people while looking and smelling so good. It was practically criminal.   
  
As was the hand now making its way up Kain’s arm, causing him to gasp.  
  
“Good,” Roy murmured. “Because I was hoping we could--”  
  
In the time that it took for the bathroom door to slam open and for Jean to come barreling through, Roy was once again a respectable distance away from Kain, much to Kain’s disappointment.   
  
“Fuck, I gotta piss,” Jean proclaimed loudly. Only after he made known the state of his bladder did he realize that he was not alone. “Oh, hey there!” he said, shoving a cigarette into his mouth and wavering about, as if the act of standing and lighting a smoke was a bit too challenging. “You guys are missing all the fun!”  
  
Roy regarded his wayward employee with a shake of the head. Jean stumbled over to him and threw an arm around his shoulder.   
  
“So what do you think, Chief? Do I have a chance with Riza?”  
  
“No. But good luck trying.” Roy eased from under Jean’s arm and walked towards the exit. “I’ll be _in my office_ ,” he said, closing the door behind him.  
  
Kain’s eyes widened. Was that… was that really an invitation he just heard or was he imagining things?   
  
Before he could ponder further, he found himself being swept into a drunken half-hug. “How about you, Fuery? Me and Riza, what do you think?”   
  
Trying not to gag on the cloud of smoke being blown into his face, Kain politely wrenched himself from Jean’s grasp. “Maybe,” he blatantly lied, patting the man on the shoulder. “You may want to tone down the singing.”  
  
Jean looked genuinely surprised. “But chicks like it when you sing to them.”  
  
Kain didn’t have the heart to point out that the warbled wailings of a drunken fool, which sounded more like a feral cat in heat than anything remotely resembling a song, was the quickest way to ensure that one did _not_ get the girl. Not that Kain considered himself an expert on such things, but even he knew that much.   
  
“Yeah but Riza’s no ordinary… uh… chick,” he pointed out. And to say the least. Kain knew for a fact that she carried a gun; how Jean had survived the night thus far was a something of a miracle.  
  
After wishing him well, Kain slipped out of the bathroom and made his way down the hall. As he approached Roy’s office, he could see the door was half open and the man himself standing there, waiting for him. Any doubts he had about whether or not his presence had been (not so) subtly requested immediately vanished.   
  
“I was wondering if you would get the hint,” Roy said, opening the door and stepping back for Kain to enter.   
  
“Sorry,” Kain replied shyly. “I didn’t want to make any presumptions.”  
  
“I tell you that I want to bend you over my desk and you don’t want to make presumptions?”   
  
Roy removed Kain’s glasses and smiled, and Kain wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if he had burst into flames over such a simple act.   
  
“Um… well… I didn’t want to presume that you meant _tonight_.”   
  
Roy grinned. “Well, I didn’t have a set date in mind,” he began, pulling Kain into the office and closing the door. “But now’s as good a time as any, don’t you think?”  
  
Before Kain could respond, Roy pushed him against the door and kissed him deeply, _completely_. Had the door not been behind him to support him, Kain would have surely crumbled to the ground; as it was, he could barely do more than stand there with his lips slightly parted as Roy kissed and licked and nipped and teased. His cup fell to the floor, forgotten. He brought his hands to Roy’s shoulders, and he almost lost it when he felt something hard and urgent rubbing against him.  
  
Finally, Roy broke away, leaving Kain a trembling heap. He grabbed the young man’s hand and led him over to the desk. “I’m usually a little more… thorough,” he said as he set Kain’s glasses aside, out of harm’s way. “But I think they would notice our absence after a couple of hours.”  
  
A couple of hours? Kain didn’t think he was capable of lasting a couple of _minutes_ with this man, let alone hours.   
  
Roy kissed him again and this time Kain reciprocated in full, as best he could. It had been ages since he last kissed anyone and he never felt all that good at it to begin with, but damned if he wasn’t going to give it his best shot. And just when he thought he was getting the hang of it and settling into more or less of a groove, he almost killed the mood entirely by nearly biting off Roy’s tongue when Roy started grinding him into the desk.   
  
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Mus--”  
  
“Roy.”  
  
“… Roy.” Kain was horrified by what he had done... but not too horrified to realize that Roy’s hips were still moving, still shifting against him, still driving him insane. “It’s just… I just…” He gripped Roy about the arms and moaned; by that point, it was all he could manage.  
  
Roy took a step back and for one terrible moment, Kain thought that the man had reconsidered his proposition. But the way Roy’s hands held tight to him, fingers stroking and soothing, he hardly seemed ready to send him away.   
  
“I suppose we can’t have you coming in your pants now, can we?”   
  
Then Roy then dropped to his knees and Kain almost did just that.  
  
It didn’t take long. Roy had barely wrapped his lips around him before he was coming, embarrassingly fast and unimaginably hard, burrowing in the warmth of Roy’s mouth and gripping him by the hair and crying out into the empty office as his body was seized by a pleasure like it had never known before. He fell back against the desk and closed his eyes, waiting for the tremors to subside, and felt the cool air of the room hit him when Roy backed away and stood up.   
  
“Are you okay?”   
  
Kain pried open his eyes and saw Roy staring at him, his expression more amused than concerned. He nodded wearily in reply; speaking was not an option.   
  
“Good.” Roy slowly unzipped his pants. “Turn around.”  
  
Fear and shame and excitement raced through Kain as he imagined how he must have looked while bent over Roy’s desk, pants down to his ankles and legs spread as wide as they would go. Had he been in his right mind, he would have thought to question why Roy had a ready supply of lube in his desk drawer. However, when slick fingers began to poke and prod and probe him ever so gently, he couldn’t have cared less. This was more than just the clumsy efforts of his own inexperienced digits; these were Roy Mustang’s digits, fingering and scissoring and stretching and curling--  
  
 _“Oh!”_  
  
So _that’s_ what that felt like.   
  
Kain liked it. He liked it a lot.  
  
And he wanted more.   
  
Bracing himself against the far edge of Roy’s desk, he pushed his hips back, again and again, actively fucking himself on Roy’s fingers. But Roy stopped just as things were getting good and Kain whimpered in disappointment. He heard the tell-tale sound of a condom package being torn open (which he found impressive, considering the difficulty he had doing so the few times he had cause for using one) and a few moments later, he felt something larger and hotter than fingers pressing into him. Kain gritted his teeth against the initial discomfort but found immediate solace in the arms that wrapped around him and the body that was draped over his back. Roy’s breath danced across the side of his neck, warm and whiskey-laden and calming all at once.   
  
“Fuery?”  
  
“I’m okay,” Kain whispered shakily.   
  
Roy burrowed his face into Kain’s neck while waiting for him to adapt to the intrusion. “God you’re tight.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
Roy chuckled at Kain’s unexpected gratitude. “You’re welcome.”   
  
When neither man could wait no longer, Roy began to move, sliding in and out of Kain slowly, carefully, _deeply_ , filling him and fucking him in a way that put Kain’s best fantasies to shame. How would he ever find satisfaction in his own hand after this?   
  
Kain grunted helplessly with each thrust and yielded to the quickening rhythm, his body rocking back and forth along Roy’s desk, sending papers and pens and such spilling to the floor. There was pain, and a sizeable amount of it, but then Roy angled their hips and grabbed onto his cock and started to stroke, and the world went white around him. It didn’t seem humanly possible for something to hurt so bad yet feel so amazing, and it was all he could do not to scream himself hoarse when he came against the front of Roy’s desk, which also, thankfully, prevented him from collapsing to the floor. Moments later, Roy stilled inside of him, shuddering and exhaling sharply against his shoulder.  
  
They remained there for some time. Eventually, Roy pulled out of Kain, who, now without the weight that held him upright, sank down to the carpet. Roy grabbed a tissue from its box--one of the few things Kain had managed _not_ to knock off the desk--and wrapped the condom in it before pitching it into a nearby wastebasket. After zipping himself up, he grabbed a few more and wiped off his desk without comment or complaint.  
  
“Here,” he said when he was finished, holding out a hand to the young man.   
  
Kain blinked at the offered hand and willed his arm to move. It was tough going, especially when he was tempted to curl into a ball right there and pass out. He allowed Roy to help him to his feet and somehow, he managed to get his pants up and fastened. He really needed to go to the bathroom now because he felt a little… sticky… and wanted to clean himself up.   
  
“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk properly for a little while.”  
  
“Probably not,” Roy agreed. “Just pretend you're drunk.”  
  
Kain laughed and then winced. Boy was he ever sore. But even so, he also felt pretty damn good. He had just been fucked by the man of his dreams; nothing in the world could ruin his high.   
  
There was, however, one thing that he really needed to know. “So… um… I was wondering...”   
  
“Relax, Fuery. I have every intention of fucking you again.”  
  
That was all Kain needed to hear.  
  
Roy kissed him again. It was surprisingly soft and sweet and perfect… and ever so rudely interrupted by the sound of gunshots.   
  
“I told him that singing was a bad idea,” Kain said, putting on his glasses.  
  
“Obviously he didn’t listen. Come on, let’s go see if she killed him.” Roy grabbed Kain’s arm and pulled him--wobbly legs, sore ass, and all--towards the door. “I hope not because I really don’t feel like hiring someone else to replace him.”


End file.
